So. What was I up to this past weekend, you may ask? Well. Let me tell you:
REBA. BAM. (Sorry. That Bam got carried over from the Little Hotdogs post. CAN’T LET IT GO.)
I think it’s time to come out of the closet.
I love Reba. I love everything about this happy little redheaded woman, with all her songs filled with abused/neglected/recently-empowered women and also FANCY.
I started to watch her show when John worked nights in Utah. He’d get home from school, me from work? school? the details are hazy now…eat something and chillax, watch two episodes of Reba, and then he’d go to work til 11. I love Van. He cracks me up.
Hey guys, how ya doin’? Ah Reba’s green sweater.
Then, when I was pregnant and faced with a colonoscopy prep (TMI?) when I was just into my third tri-mester…and then it got called off because it was dangerous for the baby…I drowned my health-related anxiety in some sort of show honoring her career achievements. There were tons of country singers singing her songs, and it was awesome. (But I don’t like country music, ok?)
So, for our anniversary…my Mom and Dad surprised us with a night away and a date to see REBA! in concert. We stayed at a nice hotel and went to the concert on Friday night. It was amazing. I do love her, and I secretly hoped Van would show up and be funny. But he did not. But Barbara Jean did! They did a hysterical skit that had everyone rolling in the aisles (most especially a woman I nicknamed “Blondie” who was basically sitting on my feet due to the smallish nature of the arena, and who was recently divorced…or so her dramatic swaying to the “my love for you is dead” songs would indicate, and her mother, who started the night off as a perfectly respectable older woman and three beers later reminded me more of Lindsay Lohan plus forty years. It was kind of great). We were all horribly disappointed that Reba would leave the stage without singing Fancy. But she did not disappoint. After faking us out, she reappeared on stage in a red-sequined dress and sang her heart out one of the best songs EVER. Right up there next to Cher’s Gypsies & Tramps and Thieves. And Meatloaf’s Anything for Love. Which I can be found dancing to in the kitchen with my two year old any night of the week between 5 and 6pm. If you don’t believe me stop on by. Oh, and Toto’s Africa.
And for the record I love Bill Cosby, too. And I will not have a second child one second before John agrees to name it Cosby. Boy or girl.
BAM. (‘ll stop with that soon.)
Thanks Mom and Dad for watching Cy, and giving us a much-needed time out. And thanks Reba, for being freaking awesome. Because we needed that.
